Police Line,Do Not Cross
by pinkpears
Summary: 12 years ago I moved from England to Rome. Five years ago my mom died from cancer. 4 1/2 years ago my dad followed and I moved to Venice to live with my aunt and uncle. Two weeks ago I turned 17. This is my life, welcome to it.
1. I Don't Care

Well...I don't have much to say about this particular chapter or fanfic. The last one I wrote didn't really have a plot, but I swear this one will. Riccio has always been one of my favorite characters, so this fanfic will include more of him. Also this takes place after the merry-go-round and that stuff. Probably about a year later. And here are the ages of Cornelia Funke's characters (I know they don't quite coincide with he book): Bo-8, Prosper-17, Hornet-16, Mosca-17, Riccio-16, Scipio-23. It's rated T for language and possibly in the future mild/implied violence. Oh, and this will all be told from Charlie's POV. If it's confusing, feel free to PM me so I can clarify anything. Reviews, constructive criticism, even angry rants are appreciated.

* * *

_Try to make it through my life, in my way, there's you  
I try to make it through these lies, that's all I do_

Just don't deny it  
Don't try to fight this and deal with it, yeah  
Just deal with it  
And that's just part of it

If you were dead or still alive  
I don't care, I don't care  
Just go and leave this all behind  
'Cause I swear, I swear  
I don't care

I try to make you see my side  
I always try to stay in line  
But your eyes see right through  
That's all they do

I'm getting buried in this place  
I've got no room, you're in my face  
Don't say anything, just go away

If you were dead or still alive  
I don't care, I don't care  
Just go and leave this all behind  
'Cause I swear, I swear  
I don't care

I Don't Care, **Apocalyptica w/Adam Gontier**

* * *

Therapy. God I hated this place. But my aunt and uncle, Meredith and Robert, thought I should go. So here I am, sitting in a perfect circle with other kids my age and two therapists.

"And how are you today, Charlie?" Dr. Pelagatti asked.

"A five." Each meeting always started off by rating how our day was on a scale of one to ten. Ten being "Perfect!" and one being "Shoot me now!" I always said I was a five. Even when I wasn't.

"You're always a five." Leo, an annoying know-it-all who was always a ten blurted out. Hypocrite.

I shot him a look but said nothing.

"That's a good observation Leo," Dr. Gulli, the other therapist said, then he looked at me, "Do you know why you're always a five?"

I sighed, "I dunno, maybe because I'm not any higher or lower?"

"It's a serious question." Dr. Pelagatti said, "Are you really always a five?"

I nodded, wanting everyone to move on already.

"Would you tell us if you weren't?" Dr. Gulli asked.

I nodded again. So what if I'm a liar, if I did tell the truth I'd be going to this thing for the rest of my life.

"Alright, what about you Riccio?" Dr. Pelagatti looked at the boy next to me. I didn't recognize him, maybe he was a new addition or something. He had a mess of dirty blonde hair on his head and wore a black leather (or fake leather) jacket. The rest of his clothes were black as well. I wondered how he could stand it with the humidity and heat that took over Venice in the summer.

Riccio didn't say anything.

"Would you care to introduce yourself?" She continued.

Riccio rolled his eyes, "My name's Riccio."

"And how was your day?"

"Five."

"See?" She smiled, "Was that so hard?"

Again, Riccio was silent.

The next person, Lucia, said she was an eight; Then Armando was a five; Matteo a four; Camilla a two; Valeria a nine; Leo was of course a ten; and Loretta was a six.

"Can I go to the bathroom?" Riccio asked as soon as everyone was done.

Dr. Pelagatti pursed her lips, "Charlie, would you accompany him to the bathroom?"

I frowned, usually if someone had to use the bathroom they could go by themselves. This guy must've done something to need a chaperone. "Sure." I stood up and walked towards the door. Behind me, I heard him follow suit.

We walked down the hallway in complete silence, passing several doors that led to other therapists' offices. When we turned the corner there was a wall with a 'Wet Paint sign' taped to it. I never had been able to resist touching walls that said wet paint. And whenever I did touch the wall/bench/etc it never was wet. I reached out a hand and touched the pale blue wall.

"Ugh." I pulled my hand away.. Not only was there blue paint all over my hand, I'd left a handprint on the wall. Oops.

Riccio had stopped and watched me touch the wall, "What'd you do that for?" He asked.

"I wasn't expecting it to actually be _wet_." I said defensively.

He raised his eyebrows, and slowly turned his gaze towards the sign then back at me.

I realized how ridiculous I'd sounded and added, "They're never wet."

"You do this often." It was a statement.

"The bathroom's this way." I ignored him and took the lead again.

When we did reach the restrooms, I used my paint-less hand to pull on the doorknob of the girls' room, while Riccio turned the boys' room doorknob.

"That's the girls' room." He said, I was about to step inside the bathroom.

"Yeah? And?"

"Aren't you-"

"No, I'm not." I snapped, feeling my blood slowly begin to simmer.

He smirked, "Well forgive me, you're not exactly-" He looked me over quickly.

"Jessica Alba?" I finished.

"That and you're name's Charlie."

"Whatever." I passed through the doorway to the bathroom so I could wash my hands.

I watched myself in the scratched up mirror as I washed my hands. I _did_ resemble a guy. A little. I was relatively flat chested, my sister often joked about why I should bother with a bra. And I _did_ wear guys' clothes. Today I was wearing baggy blue jeans and a baggy green T-Shirt. It didn't help that there was no trace of make-up on my face. I didn't know the difference between eyeliner and blush, never mind know how to _use_ any of it. And my dark red hair was pulled into a loose ponytail spare the bangs I'd accidentally given myself in an attempt to cut my hair. I left those out of the ponytail since they only reached my earlobe. And my pale green eyes (No one in my family knew where I got my red hair and green eyes from because as far as everyone knows, not a drop of Irish blood runs in our veins) weren't particularly girl-ish looking.

I turned off the faucet after making sure all the paint was off my hand, then returned to the hallway where Riccio was leaning against the wall.

"This is awkward." He said as we walked down the hallway.

I didn't say anything.

"I thought acknowledging the awkwardness would make it go away."

Again, I didn't say anything.

"So," He said loudly, his voice echoing off the walls, "Why are you in group therapy?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, "I'm supposed to talk about that with some guy who I've never met and who, until a few minutes ago, didn't even know if I was a boy or girl?"

"Is that a 'No I'm not going to tell you'?"

I didn't answer him. We'd gotten to the door of the group room.

"Ladies' first." He said sarcastically, opening the door.

"Then go ahead." I replied.

"Ha." He said dryly.

"Riccio and Charlie, will you two be joining us any time soon?" Dr. Pelagatti asked from within.

"Unfortunately." I muttered under my breath, taking a seat.

"What was that?" Dr. Gulli asked.

"Nothing," I smiled sweetly at him, "Nothing at all."

* * *

"You're late." My sister Claire said as I arrived at the gelataria where we worked. Even though we were both fluent in Italian (though we both still had a hint of a British accent), we used English when speaking to each other, as it was our first language.

"I know, I know," I pulled on a black apron that had the store's logo on it and joined her at the counter.

"What happened this time?" Our other co-worker, Damian, asked from the cash register. He was learning English in school and was taking every opportunity he could to use it.

"The group ran long today." It was six fifteen, and the rush that usually came late at night hadn't started yet.

"Can I help you?" Claire asked a teenage girl and a ten-ish year old boy. I assumed he was her brother.

"Uh…" The girl trailed off. She leaned down to whisper something in her brother's ear. The boy nodded and she looked back at my sister. "One small cup of lemon." She said. Her Italian vocabulary wasn't bad, she knew the right words, but she had a thick American accent when she spoke.

"Sure, anything else?" Claire asked in English, I guess she heard the accent as well.

The girl looked a little surprised but shook her head. Claire scooped lemon gelato into a cup then handed it across the counter to her, "Take this to the register." She pointed to Damian. The girl nodded then followed her directions.

A few minutes later Damian said he was going to use the restroom. I took over at the register for him.

I watched the next group of people; a teenage boy with light brown hair, a girl with a dark braid down her back (like a wasp or bee stinger), plus a younger kid with angelic blonde hair order their gelato.

When they arrived at the register, the girl reached for her wallet.

"I'll pay for it," The boy said, brushing her hand away.

"Prop, it's fine, I-"

"It's you're birthday, c'mon." The boy (Prop?) said, handing me a ten euro bill.

Her cheeks flushed a little as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. I handed him the change.

"That was so _sweet_." Claire cooed after they had walked away and out of earshot.

I looked over at her.

"Well it _was_!"

I didn't say anything.

"Scoot." Damian said from behind me.

I moved over so he could man the cash register.

The rush began around seven, and by nine we reached a lull where we slowly started closing things up.

"Charlie, will you tell Meredith and Rob I'm going to the movies with friends?" Claire asked after Damian had locked the door.

"That depends…Are you?"

"_Charlie_."

I laughed, "'Course I will."

"Thank you _so_ much. I really owe you." She gave me a hug then dashed off.

This happened about once or twice a week. By now she owed me the entire world pretty much. She tried not to use the same excuse twice (Before this one of her friends' grandmother died, and before that she promised to babysit one of her teacher's children). As far as we knew Meredith and Robert had no idea what was going on.

Ian, Claire's boyfriend was soundly disliked by both Meredith and Robert. He'd been involved in a drug bust a few years back, and had done time in prison. Afterwards, he'd gone to rehab and had been clean ever since. He met Claire one particularly slow night while he was taking his little sister out for gelato. The two hit off immediately.

When Claire told Meredith and Robert about him, they wouldn't allow her to see him. Even though Claire had omitted the part about him going to prison, they recognized his name from the newspaper. Apparently, it was the third biggest bust in the past decade. And no matter how much she argued that he was clean and had a steady job now, they forbid her form seeing him. So now, she has to sneak off so they can meet.

Personally, I didn't care whether or not he'd gone to jail. All that really mattered was that he made Claire happy. And that's one of the few things (besides swimming and playing darts) that he excels at.

* * *


	2. Nobody's Fool

Well, I don't have much to say about this chapter. The Lido is an island in venice, though it's not part of the "mainland" so to speak (It's like...of the coast or whatever of Venice.), and there are cars on it. It's basically an island a lot of tourists and people go to to go swimming at when it's hot...Um, yeah. Reviews, constructive criticism, even angry rants are appreciated.

* * *

_Fall back  
Take a look at me  
And you'll see I'm for real  
I feel what only I can feel  
And if that don't appeal to you  
Let me know  
And I'll go  
'Cuz I flow  
Better when my colors show  
And that's the way it has to be  
Honestly  
'Cuz creativity could never bloom  
In my room  
I'd throw it all away before I lie  
So don't call me with a compromise  
Hang up the phone  
I've got a backbone stronger than yours  
La la la la la la  
La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la_

_If you're trying to turn me into someone else  
Its easy to see I'm not down with that  
I'm not nobody's fool  
If you're trying to turn me into something else  
I've seen enough and I'm over that  
I'm not nobody's fool  
If you wanna bring me down  
Go ahead and try  
Go ahead and try_

Nobody's Fool, **Avril Lavigne**

* * *

I woke up to something wet all over my hand. I looked down, Peanut; my sister's dog was licking my hand. I reached under his stomach and lifted him on to the bed.

Peanut was a small dog-some kind of mix. Claire found him late one night when she was on her way home from Ian's. He'd been treading water (or dog paddling) in one of the canals and was exhausted. After taking him to the vet to check him out (He had an infection in his eye, but was otherwise unharmed) and getting him up to date on all his shots, Meredith and Robert allowed her to keep him. I always wondered what happened to the original owner, but we didn't see any 'Lost Dog' signs, and no one answered our 'Found Dog' signs, so I guess I'll never know.

"Go sleep with Claire." I urged the dog, giving him a gentle nudge in the direction of my sister's bed, "Go on."

Peanut continued to sniff around my bed. Finally he settled down right next to the pillow. I glanced at the clock next to my bed. 3:32 am. I groaned and lay back down. Peanut licked my face playfully.

"_Peanut_ I'm going to sleep. I advise you to go back to sleep. It's _very_ early."

Peanut, whether or not he understood me, withdrew his tongue from my face and curled into a small ball. I took this as a sign he was asleep and rolled on to my side.

I don't know if I fell asleep or not. I don't think I did. When sunlight started peeking through the curtains, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and got up.

Downstairs, the kitchen was empty. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and took it outside to the porch. The sky was still tinted with oranges and pinks at the horizon, though the sky above me was brilliantly blue. I watched the sun fully rise while sitting on the front step.

"Charlie?" I heard someone, probably Meredith call me from inside.

I followed her voice, and found her standing in the middle of the kitchen, a lavender robe tied around her body.

"Did you read yesterday's newspaper?" She asked, the paper she spoke of spread out in front of her.

"Er…Should I have?" I didn't normally read the paper. I mean, if someone told me to read a certain article, I might, but it's not like it was part of my daily ritual.

She pushed the newspaper across the table towards me. The headline read 'GIRL: 16, FOUND DEAD IN VENETIAN ALLEYWAY'. I scanned the article, apparently a sixteen year old girl had been found raped and killed in an alleyway near the Grand Canal. The police suspected this particular case was linked to two others which had taken place earlier this summer, though nothing between the victims was found in common besides that they were in the same age range.

I looked up, "Um…Okay?"

"Charlie, I'm worried about the safety of you and your sister." She said. Meredith often worried to much, and when there wasn't anything to be worried about, she would find something.

"Meredith, I'm sure we'll be fine."

"I hope so, but for now I want both of you back by eight o'clock unless you're working. I'll tell Claire that she can't have any more late night outs with her friends. Maybe I'll get Robert to escort you two back from work, just to be on the safe side…"

"Meredith," I said firmly, "These three girls were out so late at night it's considered early morning, and they were by themselves. I think Claire and I will be fine."

"Still, no more late nights, and I should have someone install a new lock, this one is old and rusty, it'd be easy for someone to get in."

I sighed, clearly she wasn't going to let this pass, "Fine. I promise we won't stay out late." Not that I ever stayed out late. I didn't have too many friends, and the few that I did were all on vacation for the summer. It was Claire who did most of the sneaking out of the house to go to parties and staying out late in piazzas with her friends. I'd just tell her that I was going to lock the window from now on so she wouldn't be able to get back in if she did sneak out.

"Good. When Robert gets up I'll ask him to call a locksmith."

"Okay." I took my bowl to the sink and rinsed it out before sticking it in the dishwasher. Behind me, I heard Meredith stand up and exit the room. Seconds later, I heard the TV turn on and the drawl of a newscaster covering a soccer tournament. I sighed and went back upstairs, maybe I'd be able to go back to sleep.

* * *

Most of my summer days were spent working. But today Claire and I had the afternoon off. I had planned to spend the time starting one of my summer reading books, both of which were sitting untouched under my bed. But Claire insisted I come with her and a few friends to the beach at the Lido.

"I'm not going." I snapped, as Claire tried to pull me up from my bed while I stuck a hand underneath to find a book.

"C'mon Charlie, you never do anything."

"I'm going to read."

"Good! You can read at the beach."

"The beach is crowded and hot and humid and loud and-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. It's a beach- it's supposed to be all those things." She gave one last tug, which sent us both falling over the side of my bed.

"Ugh." I stood up and wiped the dust from my pants.

"Please?" She asked, clasping her hands together like she was praying.

My shoulders involuntarily slouched, "_Fine_." I heard myself say.

"I promise you'll love it."

"No I won't." I stuffed the book, _A Tale of Two Cities_, in my backpack and followed her out the door.

"We're going to the Lido!" Claire called, pulling on a large T-shirt and pair of shorts over blue bathing suit on our way through the kitchen.

"Be back by eight." Meredith said, looking up from her laptop computer. She was a writer and spent most of her days at home, working on whatever novel she was writing. Usually it was a mystery or thriller, but every now and then she'd write a romance novel.

"We'll be back around four thirty or five, since we start work around six." Claire said.

"Alright, have fun." Were the last words I heard before Claire pulled me through the door and into the sunlight.

* * *

Claire, Sara, and Antonia were in the water, splashing around or something, while I sat on Claire's towel, trying to focus on the book in my hands. I kept reading the same sentence over and over again. I groaned, and put my head back. The book, which I hadn't closed, dropped to my side when I put my arm over my eyes to shield them from the sun bearing down on me.

My surroundings were full of people laughing, calling out to each other and the pitter patter or bare feet hitting the sand. I took slow, deep breaths, to calm myself down. I had a theory that I was slightly claustrophobic. Being in crowded places with lots of people always reinforced that theory. Claire disagreed though, no matter what I said, she always thought I should get out more and meet new people.

_Clunk_. I looked over to see a frisbee in the sand next to me. I glanced around the beach, trying to figure out whose it was. A few yards away a girl was running towards me, an apologetic look on her face. She looked vaguely familiar. I held out the frisbee to her as she grew closer.

"Sorry, see, he's only eight and his aim isn't all that great, I'm really sorry, are you okay?"

"Yeah, it didn't even touch me."

She took the frisbee from my hand, "Thanks." Then she ran back to a small group of people.

A few moments, minutes, maybe hours, who knows, it happened again. The same girl ran over, the same apologetic look on her face.

"Sorry again, it's just he's kinda old and hasn't quite mastered the skills needed to throw a frisbee."

"I thought he was eight?" I held it out to her.

"Oh, that was Bo. It's Victor who threw it this time."

"Uh-huh."

She started to walk away, then stopped and turned to me, "Do you wanna come play? It probably beats getting something thrown at you."

I looked back at the water, Claire and her friends were hidden from view by a cart selling snacks. "Sure." I said, standing up. There wasn't anything valuable by the towels. It would be fine to leave them unattended.

The girl, whose name I learned was Hornet (I finally recognized her from the gelato place a few nights back), introduced me to the others she was playing with. There was Bo; the little boy with angelic blonde hair and terrible aim, Prosper; whom I took to be her boyfriend, Victor; who severely lacked in the frisbee skills department, and Ida; who watched them all from a red beach blanket.

About an hour later, when we were all exhausted from playing, but for whatever reason refused to give up the game, I heard Claire calling my name.

"I gotta go, my sister's calling me." I threw the frisbee to Bo, who fumbled with it but managed not to drop it.

"Alright, it was nice meeting you." Hornet said, running to catch the frisbee thrown by Bo before it landed on someone else's blanket.

The other's echoed her words, and I ran off to meet my sister.

"Who were they?" She asked, folding up her towel.

I shrugged, "Just people who asked if I wanted to play frisbee with them."

"See? I told you you'd have fun."

I returned Charles Dickens's book to my backpack.

"I'm going to go to Sara's house to pick up a dress she borrowed; can you get back without me?" Claire asked, standing up form the sand.

"Yeah. I'll tell Meredith where you are too, she's gotten a bit paranoid, did she show you the article?"

"Yeah, and we had a long discussion about safety."

"Right, well, I'll see you at work if I don't see you at home." I started towards the sidewalk.

She waved goodbye and I crossed the street so I could walk on the shady side on my way back to the vaporetto stop.

* * *


	3. Pain

So I've decided to update every Tuesday. A week usually gives me enough time to write a chapter. I've just started watching all the Harry Potter movies over again. OH MY GOD they were so adorable in the first one. Hermione was such a know-it-all. Haha. Me and my brother keep coming up with questions about the things we can't remember from the books. I think I'll read them again. _Anyways_, you guys don't really care about that so...Reviews, constructive criticism, even angry rants are appreciated.

* * *

_Pain, without love  
Pain, I can't get enough  
Pain, I like it rough  
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_

You're sick of feeling numb  
You're not the only one  
I'll take you by the hand  
And I'll show you a world that you can understand  
This life is filled with hurt  
When happiness doesn't work  
Trust me and take my hand  
When the lights go out you will understand

Pain, without love  
Pain, I can't get enough  
Pain, I like it rough  
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all  
Pain, without love  
Pain, I can't get enough  
Pain, I like it rough  
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all

Pain, **Three Days Grace**

* * *

Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. Forty. Forty-one. Forty-two. Forty-two tiles on the ceiling. Whoop-dee-doo.

"What about you Charlie?" Dr. Gulli asked.

"Five." I answered automatically.

"Why do you always say that?" Leo asked, his nasal bouncing off the walls. Why was he so loud?

"Why are you always a ten?" I growled. That shut him up.

"Riccio?" Dr. Pelagatii asked, ignoring our bickering.

"Er….what was the question?" He asked. His voice was also abnormally loud. Maybe it was me.

"How are you today?" She asked patiently.

"Okay."

She smiled a little, "A number."

"Oh, right. Five…or six…Five and a half."

As everyone else went around talking about their days and saying how they were, I felt myself growing more and more tired.

"And then," Valeria choked out between sobs, "And then he just-he just…_left_ me."

Matteo, who was on her left, patted her on the back as she cried. I tried not to roll my eyes. Valeria cried about everything. She was an oversensitive, but at the same time over confident, big-headed, spoiled, annoying brat. No wonder her boyfriend dumped her.

"Can I go to the bathroom?" Riccio said.

Again, Dr. Pelagatti pursed her lips. And, like last time, she asked me to accompany him. And of course, I frowned and found myself wondering what he'd done to have Dr. Pelagatti (and presumably Dr. Gulli) not trust him. I agreed to go because I wanted to get out of the room. It seemed to be getting smaller by the minute.

"My god she's a handful." Riccio muttered once we were out of the room.

I didn't say anything. When we passed the wall will the wet paint sign, I reached out and touched it. It was dry. Ha. Charlie: 1, Wall: 0.

Instead of entering the bathroom, Riccio sat down on the ground with his back against the wall.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Sitting."

I rolled my eyes and sat down next to him, "Right."

"I just can't listen to her anymore. Ugh."

I didn't say anything.

"So why are you in therapy?" He asked.

An uncomfortable feeling of déjà vu washed over me, "My aunt and uncle want me to go." I shrugged.

"Huh. I think you're lying." He paused, "Do you want to know why I go?"

I didn't say anything. I didn't care why he went to therapy.

"Well," He began, "When I was about…..Five, I think, or four-I can't remember- My mom had an affair with this other guy, my dad's best friend. And one night, my dad gets back early from work-he was a policeman and was supposed to have the night shift. I guess he traded it or something.-And walks in on them. Boy was he _pissed_. Did I mention he had a drinking problem? Well, he did. _Anyways_, he'd been drinking before he came home. Can you see where this is going?" He grinned at me, "Well, first he shot the other dude. Then my mom, then himself. All while I was sitting at the kitchen table eating macaroni and cheese."

I wasn't sure what to say, should I say that I'm sorry? He's probably heard that before. Besides, hearing that others are sorry doesn't help any, and it gets tiring. So I asked, "He was a policeman?"

"Yup. Obviously not a good one."

I didn't say anything.

"But that's not the end of it," He continued, "So, I was in an orphanage for a while. And I met this guy named Mosca, one of the greatest friends one can have. When we were ten, we ran away from the orphanage. We lived in an abandoned house in Castello. One day, after about a year or two, we were in San Marco and This girl tried to steal our bag of…stolen stuff. Turns out she was in the same situation as us. She started living with us, before that she'd just been sleeping in doorways. About six months later, I try to steal this other guys' bag. He catches me and agrees to let me go if I take him to meet the others. Turns out he calls himself the thief lord." He took a deep breath.

"The Thief Lord?" I echoed. It was a pretty stupid name, in my opinion.

"Right. Well he gives us a better place to stay, a movie theater, and steals things for us, which we in turn sell to a man named Barbarossa. A few weeks later, he brings us two other people, brothers. Long story short- he's not a thief. He's a rich kid. He turns into an adult, the two brothers and the girl go to live with a woman we stole-or tried to steal from- Mosca and I continue our life on the street. Then, at some point I'm stupid enough to take the wallet of a plain-clothes policeman. I got off with a strike, and have to return to the orphanage. Ida-the woman the others are living with-gets me out with the agreement that I'll go to therapy. Apparently I'm a-" He used his fingers to create quotation marks, "Disturbed kleptomaniac." He grinned again, "And there it is. My life story of how I ended up here."

I took a moment to let this all sink in. The part about the guy turning into an adult sounded made-up, but I didn't care to much. Maybe he was already a lot older than them and went to college or something. "What time is it?"

"Er…"He looked at his wrist, "Five fifteen."

"You don't even have a watch!"

"Agreed."

Down the hallway, we heard a door open and several footsteps fast approaching. "I think that the group id over." I said.

"Wow we sat here for a long time."

I stood up as the footsteps and voices grew closer. "I'm gonna go." I said, beginning a brisk walk towards the exit. Riccio fell in step beside me. "Good idea." He agreed.

The faster I walked, the dizzier I felt. I stopped for a moment and leaned against the wall. "You okay?" Riccio asked. I nodded, took a deep breath, then continued down the hall, down the stairs, and out the door to the fresh air.

* * *

"Charlie? What's wrong?" Claire asked when I arrived at work. I was putting on my apron and pulling back my hair.

"Nothing. I just feel a little…sick or something. I'll be fine." I answered.

She looked at me a moment longer, then turned to a customer who was waiting not-so-patiently at the counter. I looked around for Damian, but didn't see him anywhere. "Where's Damian?" I asked after ringing up the customer's order.

"In the store room, we've run out of strawberry up here."

"Aha." I rested my chin on my palm and closed my eyes.

"Charlie, are you sure you'll be fine? Damian and I can handle it here if you want to go home."

"What can we handle?" Damian asked, coming out of the storeroom

"Charlie's going to go home because she's not feeling well. I told her we could handle it." Claire answered.

"Of course we can, go get some rest." He agreed.

"I'm fine." I argued, even though I knew I wasn't. Maybe I should get some rest.

"Charlie, go home." Claire put here hands on her hips, the signal that let me know arguing would get me no where.

"Alright, alright." I untied my apron and hung it on it's hook. "I'll see you guys later." I called on my way out the door.

Outside, the air was hot and wet. One of the few things in Italy I was unable to adjust to. It was so humid, that if I took a shower, I'd never really dry. I passed a newspaper stand, the headline read; GIRL: 17: FOUND NEAR TRAIN STATION, below that, in smaller letters it said; WHO'S NEXT?

I rolled my eyes and continued down the street. I felt my stomach cramping up, followed by cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. I paused, took several deep breaths, then rounded the corner. The house was a few yards away. I walked as fast as I could, which was still quite slow, until I reached the front porch.

"Charlie? What's wrong?" Robert asked when I walked in the door.

I managed to get out a "I don't feel so good," before collapsing on the cold kitchen floor.


	4. Across the Universe

This song is beautiful. The Beatles are just wonderful. I still haven't seen that movie, though. I kind of don't want to, I couldn't really tell what the plot was, and I don't want it to ruin The Beatles for me. Anyways, no one really wants to hear about that. I think this chapter is a little short, but I started school yesterday and am already feeling the pain of homework overload. I'll still try to update every Tuesday though. Reviews, constructive criticism, even angry rants are appreciated.

* * *

_Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup,  
They slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe  
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind,  
Possessing and caressing me.  
Jai guru de va om  
Nothing's gonna change my world,  
Nothing's gonna change my world._

Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes,  
That call me on and on across the universe,  
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box they  
Tumble blindly as they make their way  
Across the universe  
Jai guru de va om  
Nothing's gonna change my world,  
Nothing's gonna change my world.

Across the Universe,** The Beatles**

* * *

"Coming up next, five tips that will reduce the risk of being the killer's next victim, all on VTRT news at eleven." I think it' might've been a newscasters voice, but I'm not sure. I opened my eyes and looked around.

Robert was sitting across from me on a chair, watching the television. Meredith was sitting at the other edge of the couch, holding a mug of steaming liquid. A man I didn't recognize was in a chair next to Robert. I didn't see Claire anywhere.

"Oh thank goodness you're awake." Meredith said. Everyone turned and looked at me.

The stranger man strode across the room, "You had quite a fever there missy." He said, putting a hand on my forehead.

"Who-who are you?" I asked.

"This is Doctor Maroni, a friend of Robert's; after you fainted we called him." Meredith jumped in.

"Oh." The doctor placed a cool rag on my head.

"You had a fever of one hundred and four, which is what caused you to collapse. You should be fine with a little aspirin to keep the fever down and for the headaches."

"Headaches?"

He smiled a little, "As Robert recalls you fell and hit your head very hard on the ground, aspirin or something of the sort should help if you get a headache."

I nodded.

He patted my head lightly, said goodbye to everyone, then left.

"Where's Claire?" I asked.

"She's upstairs in the shower." Robert answered, "She was crying her eyes out earlier."

"Oh." Was all I could say.

"Do you need anything to eat or drink?" Meredith asked.

"Uh…Toast would be nice….and some cold water."

"Of course." She hopped up from the couch and traveled to the kitchen.

"Is she awake yet?" I heard Claire's voice call from the top of the stairs.

"Yes I am." I called back. Footsteps hurried down the stairs and within seconds Claire was flinging her arms around me. "Calm down," I told her, "I'm fine."

"Why didn't you go home straight away?!" She shrieked, "You shouldn't even have gone to therapy today if you felt so bad! You're seventeen Charlie! You should know better!" Clair continued, shifting into what I fondly called 'Mom mode'.

I took both her hands in mine and said, "Take a deep breath. Okay? I'm fine. No one was hurt. Alright? Everything will be okay."

She took a deep breath then said, "Of course you're okay. The doctor said you would be, sorry I freaked out."

"It's fine. I would expect nothing less from my sister who was voted 'Drama queen' in her senior year."

"Yeah yeah." She smiled, "Do want anything to eat or drink?"

"Meredith has it covered." I answered.

"Good, I got someone to cover your shift for tomorrow if you're not up to it."

"I think I'll be able to do it"

"We'll see."

After I ate my toast and water, I was ordered, by everyone, to go to bed and rest. I didn't argue with them, I was too tired to. Claire offered to help me up the stairs. I told her I wasn't an old lady and I could do it myself. This made her laugh, but she followed me up the stairs anyways.

* * *

"Claire told me about what happened the other day," Ian said, "Are you alright?"

We were sitting in the kitchen of Ian's apartment, Claire had gone to buy some food for lunch after discovering his fridge was empty except for a carton of much strawberries and half a bag of M&Ms. One would think it would be awkward, hanging out with your sibling's boyfriend/girlfriend, whatever, but I don't feel too awkward around Ian. Maybe that's just me.

"I'm fine, I just had a high fever."

"Fever?"

"The doctor told Meredith it was probably because I work at the gelato place a lot. The dramatic temperature change, going from freezing to sweltering apparently is unhealthy."

"Uh-huh." He held out the bag of candy. I took a handful, then handed back the brown ones. "What's wrong with the brown M&Ms?" He asked.

"They taste weird." I answered. The blues were always my favorite. Yeah, I know that they're all chocolate, but still, I have my preferences.

"Charlie, they're chocolate." He said, popping the ones I'd handed him in his mouth.

"Oh, she's not refusing to eat the brown ones again-is she?" Claire's voice asked from behind me. I jumped, not having heard her come in. She laughed.

"I don't understand it." He said, pouring the rest of the candy on to the table, and sorting them out by color.

Claire placed the paper bag of groceries on the counter. "Think fast." Ian turned around and tossed a green M&M towards my sister. She promptly opened her mouth and caught it.

I took all the blue ones on the table in my hand. There weren't many, though. Blue always seemed to have the least amount of numbers when it came to candy.

"Do the blue ones taste different to?" Ian asked, eyebrows raised.

"Of course." I poured them all in my mouth.

He gave me a weird look, then tossed another to my sister without looking to see if she was facing him. It bounced off the back of her head. "What was that for? I'm making you guys lunch."

"Sorry," Ian muttered sheepishly, I thought you were ready.

She didn't say anything to that, instead she just shook her head, the ponytail she'd loosely pulled her hair into swishing back and forth.

A few moments later, I had a peanut butter sandwich in front of me. Say what you will about it, I _love_ peanut butter, nothing beats a peanut butter sandwich. Ian and Claire both ate some other type of sandwich-egg salad, I think. Claire pushed a small carton-the kind they have at school cafeterias-of chocolate milk across the table at me. I thanked her as best I could with the peanut butter sticking to the roof of my mouth.

"So, what are you doing tomorrow?" Ian asked my sister, once half his sandwich had disappeared.

"Not much, working the afternoon and night shifts." She answered.

I took my plate to the sink, rinsed it off, dried it, and returned it to the cupboard. I figured this conversation might get a bit to intimate for my taste in a matter of seconds. "I'll see you guys later." I called to them, on my way out the door.

"Remember we're working tonight!" Was Claire's response.

Outside the air was wet-as usual-ugh. It was disgusting really, if I left a sheet of paper out, it would be damp within the hour. There is something seriously wrong with that. I passed several street vendors before running into a girl form school. Almost literally.

"Watch it!" The girl, Leila snapped.

I didn't say anything, instead I watched her pick up the things she dropped. If it had been anyone else, I would have offered a hand, but this was Leila. She was an exception.

"_Charlie_?" She stood up and looked at me incredulously.

"Don't be so surprised, we _do_ live in the same city." I responded.

"This has ruined my vacation. I mean, do you know how much this cost me? If anything is stained or ripped I'm blaming you." She held up several shopping bags from expensive-looking stores.

"Nothing even fell out of the bag." Did I mention that she was runner up to my sister for Drama queen? Well she was.

"Just watch where you're going." She said, pushing by me.

"Have a nice rest-of-summer!" I called after her cheerfully. Ha, I love annoying her.


	5. And All Things Will End

-Sigh- no reviews for the last chapter...Oh well. I'm aware this is pretty short. I tend to name my stories randomly, usually a phrase or something I hear that I like, or think sounds cool. But with this one, I was determined to use the title in some way. So I did, though it might not make a lot of sense. Anyways, reviews, constructive criticism, even angry rants are appreciated. REALLY REALLY appreciated.

* * *

_Lived through you,  
safe with how we lived our lives,  
with how it all turned out.  
(But things are bound to change)  
Uncovered lies, surfaced throughout,  
will make you change your mind_

Sometimes life is altered  
Won't turn out right. Can't turn out right

When I see you, I can read it in your eyes,  
fate misunderstood.  
(But things are bound to change)  
Swallowed the lies, can't blame you for,  
thinking with your heart.

Sometimes life is altered.  
Break from the ropes your hands are tied.  
Uneasy with confrontation.  
Won't turn out right. Can't turn out right

And All Things Will End, **Avenged Sevenfold**

* * *

"Charlie?" I heard Meredith's voice downstairs.

"Up here!" I called back, shutting my summer reading book, setting it aside, and hurrying down the staircase, "What's up?" I said.

"Aren't you working tonight?" She asked.

"Yeah, but it's only-" I glanced at the clock, "_five forty-five_?! Crap, I gotta go!"

"Charlie, mind your language." Meredith reminded me.

"Sorry," I responded, running upstairs to get my shoes. I stuck my feet in them with out bothering to tie them, changed into another, cleaner T-shirt, ran a brush through my hair, then ran back down the stairs.

"Where's Claire?" She asked.

"I-" I almost said, then caught myself, "Alicia's, I think. They were going shopping today. Alicia's…aunt is getting married and she needs dress."

Meredith regarded me carefully, for a second I thought our cover was blown, but then she said, "Alright. Robert and I are going to bed early tonight, He has an early meeting for work, and I'm going over to the senior center to help cook and serve breakfast. I'll leave dinner in the fridge for you two. Come home as soon as you're done."

"Thanks, we will." I said, then ran out the door.

* * *

"Hey Damian." I said, breathless. I'd run the considerable distance to the gelataria, and was now paying for it.

"I didn't know you were working tonight, Claire said you wouldn't be for a while, until your…whatever it was, was better."

"Huh?" I tied the apron around me. Claire had yet to show up.

"She said you were sick and had a fever or something."

"Well, that was a few days ago. I'm okay now."

"That's good. I hate working with Luigi."

"Who?"

"He usually works the shift before this. A really high voice? Talks about a mile a minute? short black hair?"

"You mean _il corvo_?" I said.

"_Corvo_?" He repeated.

"Yeah, that's what Claire and I call him. There was this one time the three of us were working together, and he basically professed his love for ravens."

Damian's eyes widened, "That is weird, man."

"What is?" Claire asked, pushing aside the little door attached to the counter. It separated us from the customers.

"_Il Corvo_ has a real name." I answered, at the same time Damian said, "Luigi is in love with ravens."

She pulled on the apron, "Hold up. What happened?"

"_Corvo_," I said, slowly, "Has a real name."

"What is it?" She asked.

"Luigi." Damian jumped in, "I had no idea he loved ravens."

Claire grinned, "Oh yeah, there was this one time we were working with him and-"

"I already told him." I cut in.

"Oh. Right."

The rush started early, I'm not sure why. But from six thirty onwards we were swamped. Maybe because today was hotter. Or maybe a large group of tourists were staying near us. Whatever the reason, we were barely able to keep up with them. At the end of the night, all three of us were tired, and just slightly irritable.

"I'm going to meet Ian for pizza." Claire said, "Tell Meredith that Alicia and I are getting pizza."

"She said we have to come home straight after work." I pointed out.

"She's also paranoid." Claire responded, "Please just tell her I'm with Alicia."

"Why can't you just come home for once?" I asked. I don't know why, it just came out.

"Charlie, please."

"Really though, what if-"

"I get raped and killed? Not likely. God, you sound just like Meredith." I could tell she was annoyed. Damian took off his apron and ignored us.

"I doubt the other girls who died thought it would happen to them." I snapped.

"I won't be out late." She argued.

"No." I said. "It's not a huge deal if you don't see him tonight. I mean, you spent all afternoon together."

"_Charlie_, tonight's our two year anniversary. Come on."

"You're not married for God's sake."

She groaned, "Whatever then. I'll deal with Meredith and Robert later. I don't need you to cover for me anyways."

And then something snapped, I mean, really _really_ snapped, "You know, I am so _sick_ of you telling me what to do. But I put up with it anyways. I put up with you acting like you're mom even though you're not. And the one freakin' time I ask you to do something. The one freakin' time I try to look out for you instead, you just brush me off and act like I'm being paranoid," I took a deep breath and continued, "You're not the only one who can worry. You're not the only one who can act like mom. And I am _so_ tired of you acting like you are. For once in you're life would you listen to someone else? Would it hurt you so much to not be the one in charge? The one giving orders?" At this point, I didn't even know why I wanted her to come home so badly. I was just so frustrated with her. She always expected me to do what she said. I guess I just… Was just letting it all out. Or something.

This entire time, I hadn't looked at her, instead past her, like I was talking to someone else. But when I finally did look at her face I saw that I had crossed the line. Really, _really_ crossed the line.

When our mom died. All three of us cried for days, weeks even. Then it became an unspoken rule that we would never, _ever_ mention her. It made it hard, awkward, and uncomfortable for everyone. We avoided it as much as we could. Then, when it was just the two of us, we silently agreed to never mention our dad. Again, it was hard and uncomfortable to do so. Besides the week or so afterwards when friends and family streamed through the house, telling stories about him (as well as our mom), we never talked about either of them.

Usually, when someone's crossed a line, the next day-week at the latest- it's forgiven and forgotten about. But this was the line of all lines to cross. The police line, as it were. All around this subject there was yellow police tape, in capital letters it said POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS over and over again. But I crossed it anyways. Shit.

I watched her eyes turn cold, she swallowed, then said as evenly and emotionlessly as I thought possible (under the circumstances), "We'll talk about this later."

Then she left.


	6. My Immortal

Oh man. I wish I'd done a better job with this. But it just got to the point where I couldn't fix it anymore. So...Here it is. If it's confusing, let me know. I'll try to clarify. I couldn't find a song that went with this very well, so if you know of a better one, please tell me!Reviews, constructive criticism even angry rants are EXTREMELY appreciated.

* * *

_I'm so tired of being here  
Suppressed by all my childish fears  
And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
'Cause your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone_

_These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me_

_You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts  
My once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away  
All the sanity in me_

_These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase_

My Immortal, **Evanescence**

* * *

It was one in the morning, or a few minutes past when I heard the voices. They were loud, but I was to tired to comprehend them. When I was finally fully awake they had become hushed. I looked over at Claire's bed. It was empty. She was probably downstairs.

I slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of socks. I wasn't sure what was going on, I didn't even know if I should let them know I was coming down. I decided to tip toe.

Only when I reached the foot of the stairs and saw red and blue lights outside our window did I get a bad feeling. On the other side of the canal a small crowd of people had formed, and several officers were huddled together while others held the crowd back. I swallowed, my heart sinking.

The house was utterly silent now. An eerie silence, really. The only sound was my heart racing, and even that was something only I could hear. I stepped around the corner. Meredith and Robert were sitting at the kitchen table, facing to officers. Meredith had her fingertips on her temples and eyes closed. I saw a tear escape from beneath her eyelids. Robert had an arm around her and was stroking her hair. His eyes were glassy as well, I watched him fight to hold back his emotions.

Then one of the officers, a tall dark skinned man saw me. He opened his mouth, then shut it and cleared his throat. Meredith's eyes flew open and Robert turned his head to look at me.

"Ch-Cha-arlie," Meredith stuttered, "Come here." I glanced around for Claire. Maybe she was in the bathroom.

By the time I sat down, which seemed to take forever to do, I had a feeling about what was coming. I tried to deny it anyways. It was hard though, death has a certain undeniable presence. Sometimes you just _know_. God I hoped she was in the bathroom. I wanted to be wrong so bad.

"I'm officer McMasters," The dark skinned one said in English with a trace of an Irish accent.

"Officer Lombardi." The other, the stocky man beside him added.

I nodded stiffly, "Where's Claire?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice even. There was no need to freak out. No need to freak out. _No need to freak out_. She was in the bathroom, right? Or part of the crowd across the canal, right?

"Charlie," The Irish officer said, "Your sister…She-"

I couldn't sit there. I knew what was coming. But I didn't want to hear it. So I stood up, and left the room as fast as I could.

By the time I was out of the house, I was running as fast as I could towards the crowd, though I can't explain why I would want to go there of all places. I heard one of the officers, the Irish one shouting after me, but I ignored him.

I tried to push my way through the crowd; I was almost to the front, when someone grabbed my wrist. I turned around; ready to hit whoever had done so.

"Charlie," It was my neighbor, a recent college graduate whose name I think was Jason.

"What?" I snapped, trying to pull away.

"You should- you shouldn't see this. Go back." He said, already starting to pull me away from the scene.

"What. Happened?" I clenched my teeth and dug my feet into the ground.

"Charlie-" He stopped, "It's…It's Claire."

There. My goddamn instinct was right. Shit. Shit. _Shit_.

"Charlie, I'm sorry." College Grad Jason pulled me into a loose hug.

I took several deep breaths. I will not cry. I will not cry. I. Will. Not. Cry.

Then I cried.

* * *

Again, I woke up to several voices around me. Or at least, I thought I did. When I was completely aware of my surroundings the voices disappeared. They were just part of the dream. There was something heavy lying on me; A thick red blanket. I kicked it off, it was to hot for a blanket. Claire probably-

Claire.

The previous events rushed back to me all at once. They flashed through my head one after another.

Meredith and Robert in the kitchen talking to two officers.

A crowd gathered outside.

Me, trying to push my way through.

Jason, holding me back.

Me crying.

Jason walking me back to the house.

Meredith and Robert's faces as the officers explained that the serial rapist and killer was the suspect. That the DNA samples should come back from the lab any day.

Me collapsing on couch.

Black.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead, I kept saying to myself. Dead. Gone. Lost. I repeated, trying to make the words sink in even though I wanted to deny it. I wanted to wake up and find out it had been an awful dream, that I'd imagined it. I wanted her back.

What was the last thing I said?

All I could remember was a spew of accusations leaving my lips as we argued. God, I was awful to her. Truly awful.

I stood up from the couch and looked around. Everything was dark. Outside a few streetlights were on. One of them, on the other side of the canal was right beside the crime scene. It illuminated the yellow police tape. Everyone, the crowd that had gathered earlier was gone.

I looked around the room for the clock. It was just past three in the morning. I went into the kitchen, it was empty.

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, and I didn't want to wake Meredith and Robert. This might be the only sleep they get in the next few days.

I pulled on my shoes then crept outside and sat down on the stairs. The police tape glared at me. I wanted to look away, really, I did. But somehow I couldn't. Instead I moved closer, maybe hypnotized.

POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS

I flicked the tape, it wavered, then became still. The scene was barren. The police had come and gone by now. There were a few red stains on the stone ground. I tried not to think about what the stains were. I took a deep breath, then let it out.

Dead.

I took a step back from the tape. What was I doing here? There wasn't anything that could be done.

Dead.

Damn it, I thought, I should leave.

Dead.

I took another step back.

Dead.

Then I ran.


	7. Dear God

I know, I know, I said you guys would get an update every Tuesday. I'm really sorry. There was (is) a lot of stuff stressing me out right now, and I haven't had time to write. I'm really sorry. I hope you like this chapter though. Reviews, constructive criticism even angry rants are appreciated.

* * *

_A lonely road, crossed another cold state line  
Miles away from those I love purpose hard to find  
While I recall all the words you spoke to me  
Can't help but wish that I was there  
Back where I'd love to be, oh yeah_

Dear God the only thing I ask of you is  
to hold her when I'm not around  
when I'm much too far away  
We all need that person who can be true to you  
But I left her when I found her  
And now I wish I'd stayed  
'Cause I'm lonely and I'm tired  
I'm missing you again oh no  
Once again

There's nothing here for me on this barren road  
There's no one here while the city sleeps  
and all the shops are closed  
Can't help but think of the times I've had with you  
Pictures and some memories will have to help me through, oh yeah

Dear God,** Avenged Sevenfold**

* * *

"_Psst_." I jumped. A voice behind me laughed. I turned around.

"You sure are jumpy." Riccio said, sitting down on the bench next to me.

This might seem normal, except for the fact that it was 5am on a Saturday, and San Marco's Square was relatively abandoned except for us. I wondered what he was doing out so early. He probably wondered the same thing. I'd been sitting out here for over an hour. Just…trying to clear my mind…or something.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to keep myself from sounding like I was accusing him. It was kind of nice to have company, it makes it easier to forget about things.

"I work over there-" He gestured to the other side of the square, "In the bakery. Except that I forgot the owners went on vacation this weekend. So I came out here for nothing, really."

"Oh." I said. It was weird, really, knowing that while my life was pretty much shattered, there were people whose lives didn't change at all from yesterday. Everything, for them, was just as it should be.

"And I'm guessing you sleepwalk?" He said. I looked over at him, he was grinning, just slightly. Like he was trying to stop himself.

I swallowed, "Yeah. Something like that."

He frowned, "But really, why are you out here?"

I shrugged. Like I was going to go there. "I couldn't sleep, I'm an insomniac."

"Insomniac?"

"It means-"

"I'm not _that_ stupid. I know what it means. I just don't believe you."

"Well then. That's not my problem."

"Look, I really-I mean _really-_ hate when people lie. It's stupid, pointless, and eventually it'll all catch up to you. And, over the course of my life, I've become very good-with a few exceptions-at figuring out what's a lie and what's not. _Especially_ when the one telling the lies isn't good at it. So please, don't make shit up. It's insulting. If you don't want to talk about it, say that instead. I'm not a goddamn therapist, alright? I won't _make_ you tell me. Believe me; I have better things to do than that." He said it all in one angry breath.

I wasn't entirely sure what to say to this. "Alright then."

"Good. Well, now that that's out in the open-" He paused, "You have breakfast yet?" He asked.

The change in topic was so abrupt, I had trouble comprehending the question at first, Finally I said, "No."

"Ida makes great pancakes. Wanna come over?" He asked.

I don't know why he asked. It's not like we were friends. I'd only talked to him, like, three times. Even if he had dumped his life story on me, it seemed weird to invite me over for breakfast. But, since I really didn't want to go back to Meredith and Robert, I shrugged, "Sure."

* * *

Alright. I was surprised. _Really_ surprised when I found out he lived with the people I'd played Frisbee with when- When Claire and I went to the beach. I mean, geographically, Venice is relatively small, but still I don't usually bump into the same people twice. Never mind three times.

"I should probably call my aunt," I said after breakfast. They were probably awake already. I remember the officers saying they'd come back in the morning to take our statements.

"Sure, the phone's in the kitchen." Ida said, gesturing in that general direction.

I nodded, and stood up from my seat at the table.

The phone was blue, and very new looking. I picked it up and dialed the house number. A very panicked Meredith picked up before the first ring was through.

"Charlie?" She was out of breath.

I swallowed, "I'm at a friend's house." Jesus, what was I thinking? I shouldn't even be here. God, she was probably so worried. I'm an idiot.

"Oh thank God, we were so worried, after-after what happened. Charlie, what were you thinking?"

"I just…needed to clear my head… I'm sorry."

Her breathing seemed to slow down, "Well…Come home as soon as you can. The officers are here, and want to talk to you."

"Yeah, I'm on my way." I replied, then hung up.

After thanking Ida and everyone for breakfast, and making sure she didn't want my help cleaning up, I was out the door, walking between Riccio and Scipio.

"How's the PI work?" Riccio asked Scipio. They were walking towards the train station, which was near where I lived. Scipio had some work to do just outside of Venice and Riccio wanted to go to a music store, which according to Riccio "Has every CD ever produced"

"Eh," Scipio shrugged, "We're looking for this woman's husband. He disappeared in late May. I have to talk to this guy about him."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Everyone was quiet. It was still quite early, just past seven in the morning. When we came to my house, I said "Thanks for breakfast, I'll see you guys later."

"What happened over there?" Riccio asked, nodding across the canal.

I didn't follow his gaze, instead I said quickly, "I don't know."

He raised an eyebrow at me, I remembered his sudden outburst about hating when people lie, but still, I didn't take back or correct what I said.

"Right, see you Wednesday." He replied.

"Yeah." I turned and ran into the house.

"Charlie?" Robert's voice was the first I heard.

I didn't say anything, instead I followed it to the kitchen. The two officers from the previous night, or morning depending on how you thought of it, were sitting at the kitchen table. They had a tape recorder, the kind that cops on old TV shows have, and they each held a notebook. I took a deep breath and sat down at the table.

"Charlie, is it alright if we ask you a few questions?"

I didn't say anything, I just nodded.

"You and your sister worked together right?" The dark skinned one asked.

Worked. Past tense. I took a deep breath, "Yes."

"Did the two of you come home right after work last night?"

I cast a sideways glance at Meredith and Robert. I knew I should tell the truth, that we didn't. On the other hand, they might blame me for not forcing Claire to come home. I mean, it made sense, right? I didn't do anything besides get mad to stop her. "Yes," I said, "We did."

"Do you know why your sister would be out so early in the morning?"

Shit. Damn it, I was just digging myself into a deeper hole. I knew I should take back what I just said, but instead I kept going, "No idea. Sometimes she has trouble sleeping though…Maybe she went out for a walk."

He wrote this down, then looked back at me, "Had your sister be acting strange in the past few weeks?"

"No." Finally, something I could be truthful about.

"Did she have a boyfriend?" The other cop asked.

I crossed and uncrossed my legs, "No." Oh. My. God. I really should back out of this, tell them I lied. This won't help anything.

"Charlie, is there anything else you'd like to tell us?" He asked.

"No." I stood up from the table, "Can I go? I'm really tired."

Meredith nodded stiffly. I pushed my chair in and ran upstairs before I could say anything else.


	8. The Final Countdown

Crap Crap Crap Crap Crappity Crap! Is one way to describe this chapter. I'm so sorry it took so long to update, I'll try to make the next one sooner and make it better. Though pretty much anything is an improvement from this. Anyways, reviews, constructive criticism even angry rants are appreciated.

* * *

_Were leaving together,  
But still its farewell  
And maybe well come back,  
To earth, who can tell?  
I guess there is no one to blame  
Were leaving ground  
Will things ever be the same again?_

Its the final countdown...

Were heading for venus and still we stand tall  
Cause maybe theyve seen us and welcome us all  
With so many light years to go and things to be found  
Im sure that well all miss her so.

The Final Countdown, **Europe**

* * *

I'd been standing on Ian's doorstep for….only about an hour. Trying my best to force myself to ring the doorbell. Someone had to tell him, and as no one but me and a few of Claire's close friends knew they were still seeing each other after she'd been forbidden to do so, I decided it might as well be me.

"Charlie?" The door swung open. I hadn't even rung the bell or knocked yet.

"Uh-" I began.

"What are you doing here?" Ian asked.

"Well-"

"Come inside, I was just about to go get coffee, but that can wait."

I followed him into the familiar kitchen. For almost a second, I expected Claire to be in there, fixing lunch. Then I reminded myself why I was here.

"So…What's up?" Ian asked.

I swallowed, "Ian…Last night…Or early this morning, really, um…" I wish there was a guidebook to life. And I wish that guidebook contained advice on how to inform some one of a death. That way I would know what to say right now. "The thing is…" I trailed off.

Ian looked at me expectantly.

"Well….After Claire left here last night, she-"

"What do you mean? She never came over after work."

"She didn't." I repeated.

"No, she called me a few minutes after you guys are done and told me that you guys had a fight, and that she wasn't going to come over."

"She did."

"Yeah."

So then…What was she doing out? I mean, was she on her way home when it happened? Did she leave for Ian's, get half way there, then decide to go back? Or did she take a walk to blow off steam-which is what she usually does when we fight-then start back home?

"Well…You know the serial killer guy that's always in the papers?"

"Yeah, but what-" He frowned, "He didn't-But-That can't have anything to do with Claire-Right?" He was looking at me for confirmation I knew I couldn't give him.

"Ian." I said, hoping that would be enough, that I wouldn't have to finish the sentence.

"Charlie, you're not funny." He stated.

"I'm not laughing." I said, "Claire's dead." It felt weird to say it. Like I really was making it up.

I don't know what I was expecting. Angry accusations-maybe? Or a completely emotionless reaction? Either way, I was in no way prepared for what came next. I'd never seen a guy older than twelve cry. Even Robert, who by the time I'd reached the kitchen and found out about Claire had composed himself. And, I guess since Ian seemed so….Tough, so untouchable, the emotion caught me off guard.

When he flung his arms around me, I stood absolutely still. So shocked I couldn't move. He sobbed into my shoulder. I wasn't used to trying to comfort someone else. I'd never done it before, and was completely unsure of how to do it now. So, I did what so many others had done in attempt to comfort me after each of my parents died. I patted him on the back and waited for him to compose himself.

* * *

I had no idea what to do next. I told Ian that the funeral date was still undetermined, that the police or whoever was in charge of that stuff hadn't released her body yet. I said I'd call him when it was figured out.

"Even if you call me, I can't go to it." He said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Meredith and Robert don't exactly know about us, I mean…maybe we should just keep it to ourselves, you know? I'll visit…the cemetery some other time." His eyes were still pink. A box of tissues was sitting on the table next to him.

"We'll see." I said, even though I knew he was right. I stood up and started walking towards the door, "I'll talk to you later." I said, pulling open the door.

He just looked at me.

I was about to close the door behind me when I heard him say, "Charlie?"

"Yeah?" I stuck my head back in.

"How are you holding up?"

I wasn't sure how to answer this. I was still in a numb shock, I think. So, in a evasive fashion that would make any politician proud, I shrugged and said "I'll see you later."

Now though, I was sitting on my bed, staring across the room at Claire's empty bed. I'd thought about going to the police. Several times, but had instead decided that it wouldn't make a difference. It would just make things worse. Ian wouldn't know anything; everything I lied about would have led to a dead end anyway. So really, it was better that I didn't tell them about Ian or why Claire was out at night. It would have been a waste of time.

I laid down and tucked my hands behind my head. Meredith and Robert had been making phone calls all afternoon, as well as receiving calls. All I really wanted was some piece and quiet, for the damn phone to stop ringing. There was a knock on my door, I sat up straight and pulled a summer reading book on to my lap. "Come in!" I called.

"Hey Charlie." Claire's best friend, Sara, entered.

"Hey," I said, checking myself to make sure I looked composed and not emotional in the slightest. I noted her eyes were pink, the kind of pink they can only get from crying. I scooted over to make room for her on the bed. She sat down.

We didn't say anything for a long time.

She sighed, then asked, "How are you holding up? Is there anything you need?"

That's the worst part about losing someone, or one of the worse parts. The aftermath where everyone asks how you are, if you need anything, watches you in case you have a breakdown. And then, of course, they ask if I need anything. Yeah, right. Like some_thing_ could possibly make it all better. Jesus.

"I'm fine." I said, "And you?" It came out sharper than intended. I watched her flinch, just slightly.

"Quite honestly, I'm feeling pretty crappy. I just came here to…" She trailed off, "To let you know I'm here." She paused, then added, "I guess."

I didn't say anything.

"Do…Do the cops have any leads?" She asked.

I shrugged, "They haven't said anything, just that it's linked to the other murder-rapes that have been happening."

She nodded, "Oh."

"Yeah."

Hesitantly, she asked, "Does Ian know?"

"I told him a few hours ago."

Another nod.

We passed another ten or fifteen minutes in silence. Finally, she stood up, "I'm gonna go, but if you need anything, or something, call me."

"Yeah, sure." I said. I wasn't going to call her.

After she left, I laid down on my stomach. It was just past five thirty. Too early to go to bed. I went downstairs, deciding I should probably eat something.

Robert and Meredith were sitting on the couch. A phone and box of Kleenex between them. I continued towards the kitchen, where I prepared a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and salad. Maybe I should've gone to the living room, and joined my aunt and uncle. Instead, I brought my food up to my room and ate in complete silence. Fun.

By the time it was a decent time to go to sleep, I was exhausted. I'd washed the dishes, organized my closet (which was very messy), organized Claire's closet (Because I had the time) and cleaned the bathtub.

"Goodnight Meredith, Robert." I said from the doorway to the kitchen.

"Goodnight sweetie." Meredith replied, "If you need anything, just…just come get one of us alright?"

I nodded, turned around and headed back upstairs. Before changing into my pajamas, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. The reflection I saw in the mirror was scary. The girl -me- had dark bags under her eyes. Her red hair had formed a halo of frizz above her head and her face gleamed with sweat. I splashed cold water on my face and ran a brush through my hair, but nothing could get rid of the bags under my eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I walked back to my room, knowing full well it would be hard to fall asleep with all that had happened. Sometimes though, acknowledging that falling asleep will be hard actually makes it easier to fall asleep. If that makes sense. Which it probably doesn't, unless you've experienced it.

I closed the door behind me and lay down on my bed. After kicking off all the blankets -it was way to hot for that- I tucked my hands behind my head and closed my eyes. At least I didn't have school tomorrow; I'd be able to sleep as late as I wanted, so it really didn't matter when I fell asleep.

Still though, I hoped to soon be unconscious.


End file.
